It's La Push baby
by Mrstrentreznor
Summary: Rating: MA for language and sex  written for the JBNP summer in La Push one-shot contest. Set in La Push but with original characters.


**It's La Push baby.**

By mrstrentreznor

Pairing: two OC

Rating: MA for language and sex

Word count: 3747

AN: written for the JBNP summer in La Push one-shot contest.

Disclaimer: _ the characters belong to me but all recognizable Twilight situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods._

* * *

><p><strong>It's La Push baby.<strong>

La Push.

It's La Push baby.

First Beach.

Washington.

Summer.

Sand.

Water.

Yep, that's what she expected. Serves her right for not googling some images of the place first. Who knew La Push beach was mostly grey sand, pebbles and what appeared to be half a dead forest washed up on the beach? Dear god, was that a giant sequoia? The trunk was three times her height across and had been negligently dumped on the beach. The recent winter storms must have been very bad.

It was the Pacific Northwest; famous for its mossy forests, its fishing and whales and …maybe a small bunch of uber-sexy fictional natives who transformed into wolves.

She should have known better. Thinking that coming to a place that haunted her dreams, and filled her days would be anywhere near her fantasy expectation. Thinking that she would find something that every other twihard hadn't already looked for. She stood there clutching the books to her chest.

She was an idiot… she tried to traipse around the massive tree that effectively cut the beach in half. If there even was a beach under that negligent stack of driftwood. She waded into the water that was still quite chilly for summer. She hung onto the twisted roots with her other hand, but the tree was rotting and the root broke off. She lost her balance, wheeled her arms in the air like a cartoon character, tried to clutch at another root on the massive trunk, missed and fell backwards into the water. Her twilight books made an especially heart rending noise as they plopped into the water.

Her books! Her favourite books! With all her favourite parts high-lit and the comments in the margin where she had made notes as her favourite website reread the books together before the movies were released. She let out a heart rending wail. She tried to grab at them, but another wave hit her and knocked her onto her hands and knees. She knelt in the water and of course, another small wave knocked at her just to complete the picture of her degradation.

"Are you okay?" she heard as she knelt on all fours in the surf.

She looked up, pulling a wet strand of hair out of her eyes to see a young native man peering at her. He looked about her age.

"I fell over," she stated stupidly.

"Yes," he agreed.

"My books," she wailed.

He lifted an eyebrow at the distinctive red edged books floating away in the surf. "Let 'em go," he advised.

He held out a hand to her, she clutched at it and he hauled her to her feet. Helping her up the beach and away from the surf. The strap of her bag was still over her shoulder but the top was open.

"Have you got everything?" he checked, looking pointedly at her bag.

She tried to look inside the saturated shoulder bag. What was she missing? "The car keys!"

He lifted his eyes to the sky and waded back out into the water. He rifled around in the sand at the base of the tree. She danced about nervously on the beach. He looked for ages before he shook his head.

Oh no. What was she going to do?

He approached her again. "Are you staying here? Got a cabin or something?"

"No, I just hired a car and drove in for the day." It was an impulse decision. One she was now regretting.

"What company?"

She told him.

"You can phone them. They'll have spare keys. They can send it out for you by courier. It must have happened before."

"Thank you. That's very sensible." She looked down at herself. She was saturated and her clothes were naturally, locked in the car. She had locked it too. Being a city person, it was a habit.

"We can't break into the car?" she asked desperately.

"You want to pay the insurance excess? And you can't drive it anyway. No keys. You try to hotwire a modern car; you'll blow the computer system."

He studied her. She must have looked like a drowned rat. "So to sum up: you're wet, and sandy. Your clean clothes are locked in your car and you've lost the car keys." He raised his eyebrows.

Yep; that summed it up.

"Phone?" he asked.

"Charging in the car."

"Uh-huh." He glanced at the books still floating in the bay. "I see."

Yes… she was all kinds of foolish. She had brought books, but not a phone. He didn't need to say it. He was still watching out in the bay. Then he let out a loud sigh. "Okay…" he said. "Come on."

"Pardon?"

"To my place," he stated. "You need a shower, a change of clothes and a phone."

"Oh."

He started to walk away, up the beach. She stood there for a second and thought about her alternatives. It didn't take long. She didn't have any.

She scuttled after him. Her wet runners squeaked and the water dripped from her bag as she walked.

* * *

><p>His place turned out to be a short distance from the beach; maybe 500m. Right opposite the fishing marina. The house used to be a bright blue, now faded by the sea. There was no garden and the grass was long. A shuttered kiosk was in front of the house by the road. From the pile of junk next to it, it had been a long time since anything was sold from it.<p>

He hadn't checked to see if she was following. He could hear her shoes squeaking she supposed. It had taken her the whole trip to catch up to him. All she could see of him was his back as he strode away. He opened the door.

"Wait here," he called over his shoulder.

She did, shivering a little. She pulled off her shoes and left them by the door. She thought she ought to pull off her wet jeans as well because they were dripping. He came back with a towel. He wrapped it around her and shepherded her inside the house. She stepped straight into the kitchen.

"The bathroom is this way. Try not to use all the hot water. I'll bring you some clothes."

She stood in the doorway. "Thanks…I haven't even introduced myself… Leslie. Leslie March."

He grinned at her and shook her cold wet hand. "William Ward," he stated. "Have a hot shower Leslie."

She did. It was heaven. He knocked after a couple of minutes and dropped some clothes on the vanity. She dried her hair and wrapped the towel around it. He had left her some sleep pants with a drawstring waist and a t-shirt. She re-wrapped her hair after she has slipped the shirt over her head.

"Tea or coffee?" he asked through the door.

"Coffee please…"

She padded out and made her way back to the kitchen. He was just pouring hot water into two mugs. He waved the kettle at a phone on the wall. "I found the number for you."

"Oh, thanks."

He held the milk carton up.

"Yes, just a little."

She took the mug he passed her and moved closer to the phone. He sat at the small kitchen table and watched her. It took her some time to get through to someone who seemed to comprehend the nature of her problem. They agreed that they could courier the spare key to her. She covered the mouthpiece. "They need an address she hissed at him.

"So give them mine." He held his hand out for the phone and she passed it to him. He told the woman the address and explained it was the blue house just before the Rivers Edge restaurant. He nodded. "You done?" he asked her.

She nodded. He thanked the woman for her help and hung up.

"So… looks like you're staying the night," he said easily. "The courier will be here tomorrow morning."

"Oh no. I can't do that!"

"You can buy me dinner. You do still have a wallet?"

"Yes. It's a bit damp though."

"We should dry it out."

She went to get her bag. She emptied it out into his kitchen sink. A woman's whole life was observable in her handbag. She decided hers was pretty sad. A tampon, swelled up from the water. He wordlessly held up the bin for her and she threw it away. Her favourite lipstick. A pen. A Sudoku book. Some mangled receipts. A library card. Her house keys with a brass key ring for the Titanic.

"Titanic?" he checked.

She was pulling stuff out of her wallet and laying it on the sink to dry. No photos of significant others. "My brother thought it was amusing. I'm a little accident prone."

"I noticed," he chuckled.

She looked up and smiled at him.

He smiled back at her. He had a nice smile. She had been so flustered before she didn't really look at him, but she did so now. He had dark straight hair, parted down the middle; the colour was just this side of black. It was long enough to hang below his shoulders. His forehead was high, his skin russet coloured, full lips and dark eyes.

She blinked. Jesus, she was checking him out. How rude of her.

And he caught her at it.

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head.

The mood seemed to change somehow. He seemed irritated with her inspection, or maybe with her lack of response.

"What did I do wrong?" she asked.

He didn't answer _her_ now.

"William?" It was the first time she had said his name.

He sighed. "Girls are always looking for _them_, you know?"

She was silent. She knew; of course she knew.

"Nobody looks like that. Even they didn't. The actors who played them in the movies. Had to add weight, work on their muscles and their six pack abs." He sounded bitter. "They kept the weedy ones at the back."

"Native Americans are naturally slim," she blustered. She wasn't sure what he wanted from her. "I… I think you're beautiful." Her voice was very quiet but she had said it. She surprised herself.

He looked at her. "You do?"

"Yes… but you're behaving like a girl."

He looked shocked for a second and then he laughed. He hugged her. Just a shoulder hug with one arm across her back. "Thanks for that. I needed that slap." He shook his head. "Ugly break up; it's not your fault."

"Okay then." She breathed out. "So… dinner." She indicated the sleep pants. "I don't think I can eat out in this."

"Actually you could. Nobody will care."

"Really?"

"Really."

"My shoes are wet."

"Clothes. Give them to me and I will put them through the machine."

So they did that. She washed the sand out of her shoes with the hose outside and he found her a pair of sandals. They were too big, but at least she could walk in them. She hung up her handbag to dry and left everything laid out on the sink.

He gave her a sandwich bag to put her ID, credit card and cash into for the restaurant. She put it in the pocket of his pyjama pants. And they walked down to the Rivers Edge together so that she could buy her rescuer dinner.

* * *

><p>The restaurant was in a converted boathouse. There were a few locals who nodded at them. The server showed them to a table. Just past a table of obvious Twi-tourists. All female, of course.<p>

"It's mostly seafood. I hope that's okay?"

"Yep, that's good."

"No alcohol."

"No problem."

She ordered fish and chips and he ordered a steak. She supposed he had earnt it. Their meals arrived quickly and they ate. She was hungry after her involuntary dip.

"So you were just walking? On the beach… when you rescued me?"

"Yeah." He grinned at her. "You looked pretty funny. You did that arm windmill thing before you fell."

She groaned. "Its worse when someone else sees it happen." She paused, remembering the fall. "I wonder where my books are now?"

He shrugged. He gave her a glance. "Twilight… really?"

"What's wrong with it?" she bristled.

"Well the words 'tawny' and 'glower' are underused in fiction these days," he deadpanned.

She laughed.

"You've read them," she accused.

He shrugged again. "Yeah," he admitted. "Quileute," he explained.

"And?" she pressed.

"They're horrible; badly written, badly characterised and with poor choices by the main character."

"Yes, why choose the vampire when she had the hot native boy, huh?"

"Exactly." He looked at her. "So you're a wolf girl," he stated.

She blushed. She wasn't sure why. He grinned at her again.

He held his water glass up for a toast. "Wolves all the way," he toasted. She clinked her glass against his and smiled back at him. She noticed a woman at the twi-tourist table giving her an envious glance. She almost snorted. Clearly the woman thought she had snagged some cute native man.

She looked at him. He_ was_ a cute native man. And she kind of had. Lord knows what the woman thought of her dining in pyjama pants. She might think she had already got lucky. She giggled.

William glanced at her. She leant across the table conspiratorially. "The redhead at the next table thinks we are on a date," she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. "You think?" he whispered back. He glanced at the woman, who was still watching them and then he reached across the table and grabbed her hand. He pulled it over to him and pressed the back of it to his lips. Her mouth fell open. He looked positively lascivious.

She inhaled sharply. But she didn't pull her hand back.

He kissed her hand again, a gentle brush of his full lips. "So let me see… you've been naked in my shower… you're wearing _my_ clothes… my _sleeping_ clothes… and you're sleeping in my bed tonight …"

"I am?" she squeaked.

"Didn't I tell you that? I have no guest bed." He turned her hand over and pressed his mouth into the centre of it. Her fingers brushed up the side of his cheek. She felt his wet tongue lick across her palm. She shivered.

"And… you're buying me dinner… don't you think I ought to earn it?"

"Ahhh… haven't you earnt it already?" she asked shakily.

He actually shifted his chair closer to her. "No… I don't think so…" Those dark eyes bore into hers. She couldn't take her eyes off him. He tilted his head and glanced at her lips, then back up to her eyes. They stared at each other. Her tongue snuck out and licked her bottom lip, slowly.

"I should pay the bill," she breathed.

"Yes, you should."

She wanted to kiss him. She wasn't sure when that had happened. At some point in their little flirt deception, it had become real.

The waitress must have been watching them too. She had the bill ready when they got to the cash register. She paid. She was completely aware of him standing next to her. He took her hand and squeezed it, then let go. He went to open the door for her. She nearly tripped in her borrowed sandals as she left the restaurant.

They walked outside and then when she had walked past the building, he grabbed her, spun her around and pressed her back up against the side of the old weatherboard boathouse. She was panting a little with excitement. He glanced at her lips and her eyes. She didn't say 'no'.

His hips pressed her against the wall. His hands were flat against the wall on either side of her head. He was just half a head taller than her. Not too tall. His head moved in slowly; it seemed at odds with his earlier urgency. He brushed his lips across hers. She inhaled again. Her heart was pounding in her chest. His head moved back the other way. His lips brushed across hers again. He was teasing her.

And then she couldn't wait.

She grabbed him. With both hands. She grabbed him and she held his head still and she kissed him. Those full lips were working with hers now. She made some kind of noise, a small groaning sound and he pressed her back harder against the building. Her hands tangled in his long hair. She had never kissed a guy with long hair before.

She opened her mouth a little and he took it as an invitation. His tongue penetrated her mouth and probed it deeply. She groaned for real now.

When he drew his head back he muttered. "I really do want you in my bed."

"O-okay."

They hurried back to his house. They got inside the door and kissed again; tearing at their clothes and trying to remove them all without pulling apart. They did a kind of a dance, shuffling backwards, still kissing and desperately trying to undress each other. Her hands were sliding up his skin under his shirt. She lifted it up, her lips dropping to kiss at his chest as he pulled it over his head.

He grabbed at the hem of her shirt and pulled it straight up. She had no bra on. It had gone in the wash with the other clothes. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs rubbing across her nipples. She moaned.

"Condoms?" she asked.

"Got them. Lots of them."

"Oh thank God."

He pushed her backwards a little. Still kissing her. She felt a bed hit the back of her knees. His hands were fumbling at the tie on her pants.

"Let me," she said. She untied them and dropped them down her legs. Silently praising whatever god had made her wax her legs this week. His hands slid to her waist. He pulled her up against him and kissed her again. Those hands slid down and cupped her ass; pulling her in hard against him. She could feel how excited he was to be there.

Her hands tried to slide between their bodies to undo his pants, but she could barely squeeze between them.

"Pants," she muttered at him.

"Yes," he agreed. They both looked down as he undid them. Her hands slid down his back as he had done to her. God his skin felt amazing. He dropped his pants. He was commando under them and she pressed herself back in against him. She groaned at the feel of him; hot and hard and eager and… hers.

At least for a night.

She fell onto the bed and he followed her down, straddling her body.

"What do you need?" he asked her.

"You," she begged him. "You… inside me… now."

He grinned. He leant sideways and pulled open the drawer on his side table. He pulled out a strip of condoms and held it in his teeth as he shut the drawer. She was propped up on her elbows and she looked down at him. Oh my.

It was the first time she had got a good look at him. _Oh my_.

He had one condom packet in his teeth, tearing the foil. She shuffled up the bed a little. She wanted to help. She wanted to get her hands on that beautiful cock.

"Let me," she begged.

He looked at her. "Sure." He handed her the partly torn packet and tossed the rest back on the side table. She tore it further herself and removed the condom. Making sure to get it the right way around. She paused for a second and studied him.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

He touched the top of her head; running his fingers through her hair. She placed the condom on him, he held the top and she rolled it down with both hands. Her hand slipped underneath and cupped his balls.

"God William, you feel so good."

She wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him down onto her as she fell back on the bed. She lifted her leg up; his hand slid down her thigh and hitched her body up against him. He held himself with the other hand and pushed at her opening.

"Is this what you want Leslie?" He gave a little push. She could hear her body making wet sounding noises as he pushed at her. "Like this?" Another little push.

"Yes."

He held his cock in his hand and shoved; the head entered her. She moaned.

"Fuck Leslie… you're tight."

"Please…" she begged.

He worked himself into her. Holding the condom in place as he shoved the whole of himself into her. He made a few tentative strokes in and out. He was moving more easily now as her own excitement provided all the lubrication he needed. She shifted under him, lifting her hips as he shoved forward and sank into her to the hilt.

"Fuuuck."

"Oh yes," she almost shouted it.

He stayed pressed into her for a minute. He looked down at her.

"Fuck me… please fuck me," she begged him. "Please, William."

And he did.

* * *

><p>They raided the fridge at midnight. They showered at 3am. She asked him when it had changed from generosity to seduction and he said when she had called him a girl; he liked that. He had looked at her differently after that. He had been going to try to get her drunk, but the twifan had given him the opening he wanted. The courier woke them up at 10am. William had answered the door but they needed her signature and she had to sign it in just a t-shirt, she couldn't find any other clothes and William had the sleep pants on. He laughed at her and then he got her out of the shirt again.<p>

They had forgotten to take her clothes out of the washing machine, so drying them delayed her longer.

They used all the condoms.

In the end he talked her into staying. She had taken a week off work for her impulse journey and First Beach was her first stop. They walked to her car, hand in hand and drove it back to his house and unpacked.

She didn't know what would happen when her week was up and she had to go.

But she didn't care. If it worked or if it didn't she had, in a way, found what she had come for.

FF_2154210_ - 11/08/2011 03:41:00 PM


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